Chapter 2

Rebecca knocked confidentlyon the office door. Despite her little shower rendezvous with her wife, Rebecca arrived precisely two minutes early for her meeting. She should have used the time to vet the client more thoroughly, but this should be an easy consultation to see how — she checked her notes — Mr. McEnroe wanted to move forward with his business.

Of course, she had the basics, including the company's profit margins for the last four quarters. But Mr. McEnroe had been less than forthcoming despite needing Rebecca's help. She'd see how this initial consult went and then do a full audit of the business and the man. She'd learned long ago that investigating the proprietors of a company is just as important as the numbers and business plans. If she wasn't comfortable with the type of person she'd be working closely with, Rebecca declined the endeavor.

"Yeah?"

Rebecca raised a brow. That was not a professional way of answering the door. Strike one. She wrapped her hand around the doorknob, took a breath, and let herself in.

"Mr. McEnroe?"

The man sitting behind the large — too large for the space — desk looked up at Rebecca, an arrogant smirk spreading on his lips.

"You're the consultant?"

Rebecca tilted her head, holding his gaze without a flinch. "I am."

"In the bedroom or the boardroom?" he snickered, undoubtedly patting himself on the back for the offensive joke.

"Excuse me?" Strike two and three.

"It was a compliment, sweetheart. With a body like that, you have my full attention." He gestured to the chair in front of the desk. "Take a seat."

"How did you get my information, Mr. McEnroe?" Rebecca asked, staying close to the door. She didn't think the man was a threat — just an asshole — but she wasn't stupid. She'd also decided less than one minute into the meeting not to work with this douchebag.

McEnroe raised his eyes from Rebecca's cleavage. "A friend. Apparently you… helped him. Now I'm wondering if we were talking about the same kind of help."

That smirk. Oh, Rebecca wanted to take a flog and whip the pretentious fucker into submission. That reaction surprised Rebecca enough to want to turn around and leave. If only her ego would allow her to. But no, she wouldn't give the pompous ass the satisfaction of thinking he got to her. She walked, shoulders back, with a confident stride, to his desk and laid a folder before him. She wouldn't work with him, but that didn't mean she couldn't dangle what he'd never have in front of him.

"I'm beginning to understand you a little more, Mr. McEnroe. In that file, you'll find a preliminary business solution that would have been perfect for getting your company back on track. If you…"

McEnroe pushed the file away. "Yeah, I don't think anything you show me will be better than what I've done with the place, Becky."

Rebecca's eye twitched, as did her hand. Her fingers curled into a fist, and she could feel the whip in her palm. "You may call me Mrs. Giles or Mrs. Cuinn-Giles. By the looks of your quarterlies, anything in that folder would supersede the piss poor job you've done with this place." She picked up the folder. "That being said, I'm definitely not the consultant for you."

McEnroe stood, his cocky attitude still locked in place. "So, bedroom? I bet you're a little freak in bed."

Rebecca's nostrils flared with anger. "I'm married. To a woman. And even if I was the straightest woman on the planet and you were the last man standing… well, I would turn gay just to get away from you. You're a vile, immature little boy trying to play in the big leagues. Here's a tip for free. You couldn't handle me. I would make you run home to your mommy, crying the whole way." She leaned on the desk, closing the distance between them ever so slightly. "You have no idea how much of a freak I can be."

Rebecca watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. There was intrigue in his eyes — who wouldn't be intrigued by a beautiful woman threatening their manhood? But what satisfied Rebecca was the lack of the bravado that had been there just moments before. This was a man who wasn't used to a woman standing up to him.

"Lose my number, Mr. McEnroe." Just as you're going to lose your business.

After that farce of a meeting,all Rebecca wanted was to go home and bask in Cassidy's optimism and love. But Cassidy was downtown, elbow-deep in paint, making a cancer ward in a children's hospital a little sunnier with a fun mural. Rebecca wouldn't take that away from those kids. However, she also didn't want to be home alone. So, Rebecca made a detour.

"What a fucking waste of time," Rebecca muttered, her heels clicking on the marble flooring of Sumptor, Inc. Her meeting had bothered her more than she cared to admit, which pissed Rebecca off. She was used to men dismissing her intelligence and expertise, but McEnroe was… different. He had no business sense at all. That, coupled with his wildly narcissistic attitude, not only gave Rebecca a massive headache but also made her wonder why in the hell he had called her at all.

Rebecca was also used to overtly sexual advances. Normally, she was able to dismiss it as tiny dick syndrome. The louder they were, the less they had to work with below the belt. The less they had, the faster they cried their safe word when Mistress showed them no mercy—years behind the mask taught Rebecca that. McEnroe's multiple sexual comments put Rebecca on edge for far different reasons than just being annoying. They reminded her too much of her past.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Giles." Dorothea, Eve's assistant, gave Rebecca a kind smile. "Is Mrs. Sumptor expecting you?"

"No, sorry, Dorothea. Is she busy?"

"Never too busy for a friend."

Rebecca turned to the sultry voice and smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that." She accepted Eve's hug and kiss on the cheek, then followed her into the large office. "I didn't know if you'd be here or at the gallery. I took a chance." Rebecca sat on the plush couch, curling her legs up under her.

Eve sat beside her, turning her body to face her oldest friend. "Lainey and I are giving Lauren a little autonomy at the gallery. And, frankly, after everything that happened, we're a little more attentive here at Sumptor, Inc." Eve touched Rebecca's fidgeting hand. Rebecca Cuinn-Giles was not usually a jittery person. "Are you okay?"

"Hmm?" Rebecca saw Eve looking pointedly at Rebecca's hands. Immediately, Rebecca stopped tapping her fingers. "Yes, I'm fine."

"Becca?"

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "You only call me Becca when you're trying to butter me up."

Eve chuckled. "You came to see me, remember? Seriously, Rebecca. Are you and Cass doing okay?"

"Yes! Absolutely. I'm not here because of Cassidy, Eve. I just…" Rebecca blew out a frustrated breath. "I had a meeting today. A potential client. It didn't go well, and I feel a bit out of sorts."

Eve frowned. "I've seen you after a disappointing meeting. This isn't it. Did something happen?"

"He was an asshole. Nothing I haven't dealt with before."

"But?"

Rebecca shook her head. "I don't know, Eve. This time, it just rubbed me the wrong way." She wanted to discuss this with Cassidy before anyone else. Cassidy was her person—the one she wanted to turn to when she was feeling…off. As much as she loved Eve, that's not why Rebecca was here. "How would you feel about acquiring a wholesale warehouse? According to the quarterlies I've been given, it's well on its way to failing."

Eve laughed. "Well, you sure know how to sell it! Are you punishing me or the dickhead that made you feel this way?"

Rebecca grinned. "I know my business plan will work, and you have the resources to turn it around. More importantly, I want McEnroe to fail. Permanently."

Eve hesitated, bringing her phone out to text Lainey for her opinion. A few moments later, Lainey popped into the office.

"Hello, Rebecca." Lainey leaned down and kissed Rebecca's cheek. "Hard day?"

Rebecca raised a brow. "Do I look that bad?"

"No," Lainey smiled. "Eve mentioned it in her text. That and you want us to get into the wholesale business."

Rebecca glanced at Eve. "Do the two of you have some sort of shorthand? Because you couldn't have texted all that."

Eve lifted a shoulder, her mouth tilted up with a sly grin as Lainey sat on the arm of the couch next to Eve. "We do. But I also have fast fingers."

Lainey bit her cheek when Rebecca slanted a look at her. They all thought the same thing, but other than a knowing look, they let it go.

"Ahem." Time to get everyone's mind back on business, Lainey thought. "So, Sumptor, Inc. isn't in the market for wholesale, but that doesn't mean we can't take over the company and repurpose it. How big is the warehouse?"

Rebecca appreciated how Eve gave Lainey more responsibility in the company. Lainey had undoubtedly earned it. With a smile, she reached for her briefcase… which she had forgotten in her car. "Damn it. All the information you need is in my briefcase. Which I currently don't have. But I can email you all the details when I get home."

"And you're okay with us not keeping the business as is or using your business plan? You know we have the utmost respect and confidence in your work…."

"Lainey," Rebecca interrupted gently. "I honestly don't care if you burn the place down. I want that man to know what happens when I get pissed off."

"Burn it down it is," Eve teased. "Anything else you'd like us to do to him, Mistress?"

Rebecca playfully flipped Eve off. "I'll admit I imagined flogging the hell out of him, but Cassidy is the only one that gets the pleasure —and pain— of Mistress."

Eve chuckled. "On that note, why don't you just email the information? You should go home and get some of that frustration out."

Rebecca shook her head. "Nope. Tonight, Cassidy and I have a date with relaxation. Just… being with each other."

"Aww, I love those kinds of dates," Lainey cooed, stroking Eve's soft hair. "Sometimes just being is what we all need to recharge."

"I agree," Eve said. "Perhaps yours and Cass's busy schedules contributed to this meeting getting to you more than usual?"

"Maybe." Rebecca sighed. Her body and mind were tired. She was looking forward to doing absolutely nothing tonight with her favorite person.